


The Reaper Calls

by avacat123



Series: Home is Where the Hearth [2]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/M, I always thought Cinderpelt would be in love with Firestar, POV Third Person, Starclan and their fucked up prophecies, after all he was the only man besides Brackenfur she was remotely close too, more at 11, negative view of Starclan, plus she never really wanted to become a medicine cat, takes place roughly when Firestar had Greencough for like 2 lives, this just in 15 year old is pissed at god, we love our boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:15:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23972158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avacat123/pseuds/avacat123
Summary: Life is precious and fleeting. It comes for him in the night and she is his guard.
Relationships: Cinderpelt & Yellowfang (Warriors), Cinderpelt/Firestar (Warriors), Firestar & Yellowfang (Warriors), onesided/forebidden
Series: Home is Where the Hearth [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728238
Kudos: 16





	The Reaper Calls

**Author's Note:**

> Or Firestar has Greencough and Cinderpelt watches over him.

She knows he’s about to lose a life. His pelt is hot, like the blazing sun in Greenleaf, his breathing is ragged, and he can barely keep his eyes open. When he does wake, he quietly asks for the goings of camp.

“How are the Queens? Is Graystripe doing a good job? Is Brambleclaw okay? Sandstorm and the girls are fine right? No one else caught it, right Cinderpelt?”

And she reports back like a good medicine cat. He falls into fitful spells of slumber, thrashing often accompanies what can only be delirious nightmares. The moon is high in the sky tonight. All of Starclan seems to be present for this terrible and deadly night. Wind blows through the small den she calls home rattling the mounds of berries and moss loose.

His pelt is ruffled by the wind, she swears a spirit is resting on his flank urging him to come back to them, to Thunderclan, to love and lead with the renewed strength death will give. Nights like these always make her leg ache, the long persistent and debilitating injury cause by a traitor she will never forgive. But it also makes her remember the sweet, nostalgic times of her apprenticeship. As if answering her call for a respite the scent of prey fills her nose and upon opening her eyes, she sees a much younger version of the infirmed leader.

“Excellent catch, Cinderpaw! I knew you get it eventually, I’m so proud of you!” Her mentor yowls eyes beaming with affection. “Pretty soon you’ll be able to rival Sandstorm.”

“Oh?” She questions, “I’m pretty no one will ever rival her in hunting. But thanks for teaching me everything.” She says with too much affection for an apprentice to regard their mentor with. But she was always the exception, wasn’t she?

Looking up at the tom she can’t help but smile. This was his prime, back when he wasn’t in charge of the entirety of Thunderclan. When he could smile and laugh freely. She misses this, desperately. Here lies a path that was ruined by ambition of others and a grudge towards the blood that didn’t define the tom in front of her.

“Alright little miss! Time to go back to camp and show this off to your mother, she’ll be thrilled.” He turns away from her with a small purr of amusement rippling through his throat.

A chill runs down her spine when the purr turns to a cough and she is thrown back into the present. The scent of mouse transforms itself becoming more deadly, blood she realizes a second too late, and the wind seems to howl as it moves through the trees, a cacophony of screams to accompany the impending end. She races back inside her den, plants herself next to her now awake charge, and waits for him to stop choking. A single star shines down on them, bathing both in the graces of their ancestors and with the help of the stars his coughing ends.

“Cinderpelt…,” He struggles over the name he’s said thousands of times; she thinks of all the other deaths she’s witnessed and realizes his will always be the worst, the ones that feel like a personal failure, the ones that feel like Silverstream all over again. His breath comes out in gasps, bright red stains his muzzle (if she didn’t know better, she would assume it was berry juice, dear Starclan she wishes she didn’t know better), not realizing the panic she feels, he continues. “I had the most wonderful dream. It was the time you caught your first ever prey! What a day that was, I was so proud of you. You know I haven’t stopped being proud of you, Starclan gave us separate paths but I like to think that you still view me as a mentor.” He lays his head on his paws and sighs quietly. “I think… I’ll be leaving soon… she’s been waiting her for a while now… I probably shouldn’t keep her waiting any…. Longer.”

She looks over his shoulder and sees someone they both miss dearly. Yellowfang watches her, crooked and stained teeth curled into a smile, as if she’s trying to make this easier. Firestar draws his final breath, a pained wheezing inhale of breath that has no exhale.

It makes her want to scream, to curl up like a kit and wail to the stars, to beg and plead for his life back, to cry for him and all of Thunderclan. Yet she knows none of it will help. No, no the only thing she can do is clear her eyes of tears and wait for his return. He may walk with Starclan right now, but this meeting will be short, and she has much more to do for him. She has many roles to fulfill: medicine cat, member of Thunderclan, sister, friend, and loved one (One she desperately wishes she didn’t have to suppress, could they have been more? Could she have had kits? Could she have been truly happy? Why her? Why him? Will the fire that dances in her heart always be there? Will she always wish for more and never get it?)

Cinderpelt has just watched Firestar die. Yet life demands she continue to smile and that he continues to lead. She wonders, privately if Starclan likes to see them all suffer.


End file.
